


Romulus & Remus

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Legends of Destiny [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 17:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15148124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Ana Bray at Twilight Gap, from Legends of Destiny.





	Romulus & Remus

**Author's Note:**

> I do like this one. Hope you do too.

The battle had long since degenerated from clean, ordered lines of conflict into a blood-slicked and frantic melee; Ana Bray was in the thick of it, a whirling maelstrom of light and fury against a backdrop of swarming Fallen on one side and battered masonry on the other.

Not far from her, a guardian falls again, dragged fighting into the muck by a beaten assailant and given a knife through the throat as life fades from the Fallen’s beady eyes. He’s back on his feet again moments later, running his rifle dry into the encroaching masses in vengeance and fear. But they can’t go on forever, not when Ana’s cannon clicks dry on an empty power cell, and she has nothing left in her bandoliers to fill the chamber with. With a grimace, she holsters her gun, bone-white smoke still whispering from the red-hot barrel, and reaches for her light.

The solar energy is coiled inside, creating a golden cordon around her heart that leaps at the chance to slip loose it’s shackles and scorch the Fallen from the face of the earth.

Ana reaches into the sky, past the smoke and ash clogging the air, past the miasma and the death, and feels solar light boil down her veins like wildfire as she plucks her beloved golden gun from thin air and starts racking up a body count.

The first to fall is the captain charging for her. She can see it’s mandibles click in a roar as spittle flies from its face in a valiant -if futile- war cry. It’s breath, mingled with the stench of the battlefield, smells like a rotting corpse in summer, and it’s steel muscles bunch and coil as it springs the final few feet at her in a desperate attempt to snuff out her light.

Her response is automatic. She raises the burning cannon, pulls the trigger, and turns the captain to ash with a beam of roiling napalm through his skull. He disintegrates under her power, burning into nothing but clean smoke. Death by fire. In his place, marking where he fell, is a pool of pure light, a Titan rushes past her, through the pool, and emerges from the other side wreathed in gilded star-fire to start carving a bloody path through their assailants. She smiles, the wolf’s head sigil on her cannon’s grip burning into her palm as she’s wrapped in flame for a second shot.

Cannon raised, she sights the Baroness at the end of the field of carnage and resolves to burn her to ash.

The wheels turn, and Ana’s instincts as a gunslinger reach their peak as the path to her target is illuminated by a golden trace in her vision. The cannon is raised, golden flakes of burning metal falling from the underbarrel as the very air burns in agony at it’s presence; and gives a whispered death sentence as a ribbon of golden heat exits the flaming barrel and streaks across the battlefield towards the baroness. The fallen notices, and she starts to scramble, feet barely having the time to start to slide in the bloody mire before the round burns a glassy hole in her skull, another Fallen nothing more than ash on the wind as a pool of light lays where she fell.

A quick scuffle sounds behind her, and Ana hears the loose rocks cascade like the quiet clacking of the Devil’s teeth as a few Fallen try to assault the guardian’s position from a new angle. She spins on her heel and searches for a target.

A Titan throws a punch and caves in a Dreg’s skull from the off, and then aims another blow, this one coated in a layer of the dark nothingness that is the void, at the Vandal to his left. The Warlock at his back reaches out with shadows and fear and pulls the life from another Vandal, before turning to her right and unloading her submachine gun into another Dreg. But Ana sees what they can’t, and with a golden gun still blazing in her left hand, pulls a throwing knife from her boot and lobs it at the Vandal jumping down from above with a spear wreathed in electricity in its hands.

There’s a dull snikt as the blade neatly shatters the polycarbonate helmet and slides into the Fallen’s skull, stopping it cold.

She spins again as time slows, adrenaline flooding her system again as she notices the Baron that has taken the Baronesses’ place directing the battle and has a struggling sunbreaker titan hanging from an outstretched arm as it taunts and growls and clicks. The subtle shimmer of an energy shield hangs around the Fallen’s frame like a gossamer cloak, and Ana realises her golden gun doesn’t have enough in the chamber to deal with that. Not at the moment, anyway. She picks the closest Fallen from the crowd and unloads the fury of an angry star into it before letting her golden gun burn out again for a moment. Then she steps into the pool of light her shot created and succumbs to the burn.

The fire in her heart explodes from cinders once again and the energy burns down her veins like lit napalm as she extends her cannon once more and aims at the Baron. Once more, her glimmering auriferous cannon whispers death.

The first lance of fire tears away the sophisticated gossamer-weave that makes up the energy shielding surrounding the Baron. The twelve foot tall Fallen staggers and drops the struggling Titan. A golden trace overlays itself onto Ana’s vision, predicting a dodge. As always, she trusts her instincts. The glittering cannon whispers death again, and the Sigil on her cloak burns with star-forged fury as the swirling ribbon of flame burns a glassy hole through the Baron’s tricksy eye-socket, turning him to ash. A golden pool of righteous fire lies where he stood.

A Warlock sprints through the pool, the spearhead of their reinforcements. Quickly, she leaps into the air and a sword made of fire crystallizes in her palm as she reaches for the sun and bends its power to her will. Oppressive night blankets the battlefield as a Nightstalker sprints after the Warlock and crosses the pool, his bow flows into his hand naturally and he releases three arrows, anchoring dozens of Fallen in quick succession. Ana feels the wolf’s sigil on her glittering cannon’s palm-grip burning into her hand and knows it’s time for her gun to go again.

She picks a random Fallen from the terrified, scrambling masses and burns it with the cannon’s final sentence. The chain reaction sets the battlefield alight, burning dozens of Fallen to smouldering ruin. The Hunter who arrived on the heels of the Warlock tosses her a spare cell from his bandoliers and she reloads her physical gun with a satisfied sigh, flicking the chamber closed with a practiced quirk of the wrist before looking outwards to the battle at large still raging. There are more Fallen to exterminate.


End file.
